Humans Guarded by the Dragon Riders
This is an Australo-Melanesian people by evolution and descent. Generally tall and lanky, with ashy, dark brown skin tones, these people are easily identified as to their home. They have finer, softer features than their African ancestors, gaining more slender features from lives in deep jungles and dark swamps.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australo-Melanesian
There are many townships and people of this smaller kingdom. However, it is not really a kingdom, as these primarily dwarven lead townships have united together, under the The Dragon Rider Academy for specific protections. Not every kingdom dear by so directly involves themselves with the Dragon Riders of the Crimson Peaks .
Here will be an example of a type of daily life, from a human commoner's perspective.
This is Doorian Dof, a hunter-gatherer from the small town of Pebblestep . In fact, Doorian is an expert gatherer for the rare fruit, the Mokai .
The sun has burst through the horizon but moments ago; however, he has been awake for a time, getting his oxen, wagon, and donkey ready. He will be gone for a few weeks, deep in the woodlands to the south, far away from the gaze of the Crimson Peaks . He hears the door behind him, the front porch creak.
"Were you going without even a goodbye?" Doorian is a tall man, and even with his beautiful dark skinned angel standing in front of him, his wife Tsarza Dof, he stood still almost half a head taller than her.
Doorian steps widely forward, his wide stance taking two stairs at once, and moves into kiss Tsarza's forehead. "No, wouldn't dream of it, Star." She always winces when he uses her nickname, derived from the common tongues spread by Cuthbert. "Plus, I got to wait for Iago."
Again, Tsarza winces, and Doorian again knows why. The lands are dangerous, the river where the Mokai grows, teems with monsters, beasts, and pirates. Iago is his paid "protection". However, Doorian and his wife both know Iago is not reliable. He comes, but he is half drunk. However, also still, he continues to remind his wife, "I have not been in any incidient for more than a decade." His tone changes to be more jovial, as he whisks Tsarza off the porch and into his arms. "The Riders are overhead, constantly. And, now with Storm and his Pegasus, no one dare to disrupt this peace and flow. Remember, you saw Storm." He sets her down on the dirt below the patio.
His stout, but strong and voluptuous wife (she has given him nearly six. children [they celebrated last night learning of the sixth]), does not smile, and only crosses her arms. Doorian waits for her to melt from his smile, which usually works, but it does not. "Yes, my love, I know. However, there are rumors of other dealings with the Sakarians . He is a sly one, so just, try to keep Iago sober. Might at least then have one good eye to help watch your back." She steps forward, reaching with her right hand to his cheek; he has to lean down to help the caress find its mark.
"I am just saying, I worry, Doorian." The noises of children waking, the oldest of which is 7, wanting food mother's, father's, clothing--all of this begins to slowly echo from the small, wooden shack built from outside a cave, sort of under a larger tree. Doorian built it with his own hands, at first, but Tsarza made it a home. The children, they made it a way of life.
"No need." He smiles to the sad Tsarza, as once again she realizes he will leave. He has always returned, but, there is just something making he feel as if he is on to a very dangerous gathering.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australo-Melanesian
There are many townships and people of this smaller kingdom. However, it is not really a kingdom, as these primarily dwarven lead townships have united together, under the The Dragon Rider Academy for specific protections. Not every kingdom dear by so directly involves themselves with the Dragon Riders of the Crimson Peaks .
Here will be an example of a type of daily life, from a human commoner's perspective.
This is Doorian Dof, a hunter-gatherer from the small town of Pebblestep . In fact, Doorian is an expert gatherer for the rare fruit, the Mokai .
The sun has burst through the horizon but moments ago; however, he has been awake for a time, getting his oxen, wagon, and donkey ready. He will be gone for a few weeks, deep in the woodlands to the south, far away from the gaze of the Crimson Peaks . He hears the door behind him, the front porch creak.
"Were you going without even a goodbye?" Doorian is a tall man, and even with his beautiful dark skinned angel standing in front of him, his wife Tsarza Dof, he stood still almost half a head taller than her.
Doorian steps widely forward, his wide stance taking two stairs at once, and moves into kiss Tsarza's forehead. "No, wouldn't dream of it, Star." She always winces when he uses her nickname, derived from the common tongues spread by Cuthbert. "Plus, I got to wait for Iago."
Again, Tsarza winces, and Doorian again knows why. The lands are dangerous, the river where the Mokai grows, teems with monsters, beasts, and pirates. Iago is his paid "protection". However, Doorian and his wife both know Iago is not reliable. He comes, but he is half drunk. However, also still, he continues to remind his wife, "I have not been in any incidient for more than a decade." His tone changes to be more jovial, as he whisks Tsarza off the porch and into his arms. "The Riders are overhead, constantly. And, now with Storm and his Pegasus, no one dare to disrupt this peace and flow. Remember, you saw Storm." He sets her down on the dirt below the patio.
His stout, but strong and voluptuous wife (she has given him nearly six. children [they celebrated last night learning of the sixth]), does not smile, and only crosses her arms. Doorian waits for her to melt from his smile, which usually works, but it does not. "Yes, my love, I know. However, there are rumors of other dealings with the Sakarians . He is a sly one, so just, try to keep Iago sober. Might at least then have one good eye to help watch your back." She steps forward, reaching with her right hand to his cheek; he has to lean down to help the caress find its mark.
"I am just saying, I worry, Doorian." The noises of children waking, the oldest of which is 7, wanting food mother's, father's, clothing--all of this begins to slowly echo from the small, wooden shack built from outside a cave, sort of under a larger tree. Doorian built it with his own hands, at first, but Tsarza made it a home. The children, they made it a way of life.
"No need." He smiles to the sad Tsarza, as once again she realizes he will leave. He has always returned, but, there is just something making he feel as if he is on to a very dangerous gathering.
Naming Traditions
Feminine names
Balama, Dona, Faila, Jalana, Luisa, Marta, Quara, Selise, Vonda;
Masculine names
Anton, Diero, Marcon, Pieron, Rimardo, Romero, Salazar, Umbero;
Family names
Agosto, Astorio, Calabra, Domine, Falone, Marivaldi, Pisacar, Ramondo
Other names
Conundra, Balsa,
Ideals
Beauty Ideals
Nature is beautiful.
Magic is a conduit to affect nature, and create beauty.
Magic is a conduit to affect nature, and create beauty.
Gender Ideals
Equal gender status, usually. However, like most cultures, there is a traditional established patriarchy. Thus, usually leaders are male. However, women rule daily matters, unilaterally.
Courtship Ideals
Courtships are brief, and a relation to nature. Nature has given the urges, and procreation is the purpose. However, this also creates the effect of a frivolous view of courtship and sexuality.
Relationship Ideals
Generally traditional, but the high influence of magic allows for many to view relationships as tethers away from adventure.
Related Organizations
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